The House of Jewels
by Crazy4Moony
Summary: Remus has a whole different side to him that no one’s ever seen — Hogwarts purifies his soul in more ways than one, but when the Blacks decide to spend their holidays in Paris, Remus’ hopes of keeping his secret get shattered. Maybe it’s for the best?
1. Welcome to the House of Jewels

**The House of Jewels.**

**Remus has a whole different side to him that no one's ever seen—Hogwarts purifies his soul in more ways than one, but when the Blacks decide to spend their holidays in Paris, Remus' hopes of keeping his secret get shattered. Maybe it's for the best?**

C**hapter one:** Welcome to the House of Jewels, where all your Dreams will come True.

**AN: warning: after this chapter the rating will be hard M—so if you're on the sensitive side, you better stop reading now. Also, this is going to be a rude, crude, mean fic. Characters will treat each other badly sometimes (no abuse though), and well, yeah, if it's not your cup of tea, you really shouldn't start reading. Weird stuff will happen—sometimes actions will seem strange—but well... this is a somewhat darker fic, so I suppose **_**weird**_** just might be inevitable.**

"Oh don't be such a pansy Reg, just come on!" Sirius Orion Black—dressed in his black suit, the tails of his jacket dancing in the wind—grinned broadly at his brother, and glanced sideways, before bravely stepping onto the red carpet, making way over to the festive building.

"_I_'m the pansy?" Regulus huffed indignantly. "_You_ want to go to an all-boys brothel!"

"It'll be fun," Sirius assured him, as the men by the entrance bowed—taking off their hats in greeting—and opened the large set of doors for the two young boys. Sirius immediately felt happy he was still in his suit—since all the other men were dressed up quite nicely. Glancing over at Regulus, he flashed him another grin, "too late to turn back now anyways."

Regulus gave another huff in resignation and shifted closer to his brother. He had to admit this was already quite fun, and they were still in the entrance hall. There were red drapes against the wall and ceiling, in manner of decoration and a red carpet leading to the register. Two staircases led to top floors, and there were several doors at each sides of the hall. The door by the desk was largest though, and decorated with fine golden linings. Scarcely clad boys bustled about to greet the new-comers, and pressed themselves against regulars for extra tips. There was quite a line, people waiting to be seated by one of the girls by the front-desk—they seemed to be the only females present. And Regulus had to admit—even though most of the boys were wearing mini-skirts and high heels and garters—they were rather cute, yet albeit a bit girly for his taste. He liked manly men. Like Severus Snape, for instance.

Sirius happily studied all the boys running around him—all winking and shaking their fine behinds: he was having the time of his life. Contrary to popular believes, he wasn't such a bad boy—it was actually his first time in a place like this. He'd been in strip-clubs, but actual hookers? Never. The whole concept was just too weird—why would he pay someone to have sex with him? But the vibe there was great, and even though Regulus didn't believe him, he was also there for the show—not only for the pretty, half-naked boys who flattered themselves against him without shame.

"Bonjour Nance," the somewhat older man in front of them winked at the girl behind the register, casually leaning against it—Sirius could immediately tell that he was a regular, "Ruru here tonight?"

"Mais bien sûr, Lee," the blonde checked a chart, "he's serving drinks—maybe if you're a good boy he could be persuaded into something more... amusing."

"Oh," the grown man pouted, and Sirius and Regulus shared a look, "no show?"

"Not until later I'm afraid—ten minutes, maybe," she wrote something down, then looked up again, "but like I said, maybe he can be persuaded."

"Ruru doesn't do too well with that," the man said sadly, "I'll have to find something good."

"Play nice Lee," she winked, and handed him a small paper, "he's on the second floor," she beckoned a slender boy over—the skirt he was wearing barely covered his ass, and his blouse revealed his toned skin. The man named Lee smiled as the boy playfully took his hand and linked their fingers, and he gave a wave at the blonde girl by the register, "bon chance!"

She focussed on Sirius and Regulus—Sirius, one hand down the pocket of his trousers, the other resting comforting on Regulus' arm, and Regulus, nervously glancing about.

"Ah, des bizuths," she smiled pleasantly, and Regulus' eyes focussed on her, "how may I help you?"

"We're here for the show," Sirius said, giving her his trade-mark grin.

She nodded, writing something down again—Sirius wondered what the writing was all about, but decided not to ask.

"You're lucky—Ruby's on in ten minutes or so."

"Ruru?" Sirius smirked, remembering the nickname the older man had apparently given this Ruby-person.

"Indeed," she grinned, "his first show since he's back—it'll be good. I'd recommend the second floor: it has a perfect view of the stage."

"Sounds great," Sirius heard Regulus let out a small whimper, and glanced over at him once, to realise a cute raven-head had taken his free arm, "thanks," he winked at the girl and was dragged off by his brother and their chaperone, who chattered on happily about things Sirius didn't care to register.

Instead he focussed on the room they'd just entered, and inwardly felt his mouth drop. The place had an old theatre-vibe to it. There were fine wooden stairs leading down to a dance-area with tables and a bar, but they also lead to the stage—burgundy curtains currently hid it, and Sirius already felt anxious for the start of the show. The barstools were red and golden lined—very Gryffindorish, for a muggle place—and the dance-area was still practically empty, everyone in seats, waiting for the show to begin. The pretty raven led them to the stables where comfortable couches were placed—men were making out everywhere, or just talking with young boys sitting across their laps. Sirius didn't fail to notice the numerous doors, and wondered what was behind them—though he had a pretty good idea. They were guided up an old staircase to the second floor, where another bar was set. He immediately noticed the older man from before, chattering against one of the waiters, and wondered if that might be the infamous Ruby.

As they sat down, Regulus was still looking around cautiously, and Sirius grinned at their raven companion, who gave him a flirtatious wink.

"Do I have the right to tip you for being cute?" Sirius asked, and the boy smirked, placing his high heeled shoe between Sirius' legs—he slid his hand over his ankle up to his thigh, where the elastic band of his stocking was revealed.

"Of course," he bit his lip in a mock-innocent gesture, his eyes widening slightly, and Sirius pushed a couple of bills under the band—as reward he got a kiss to his cheek, and with a playful pinch in Regulus' shoulder (which only made him seem more nervous) the raven left.

"See, it's fun," Sirius tried to convince Regulus, but his younger brother still seemed thoroughly shaken. He ordered them drinks from a boy in tight, black shorts and saw Regulus relax after his first glass.

"If mum ever finds out we were here she'll kill us," Regulus said thoughtfully, nipping his second drink—Sirius' eyes were still focussed on the stage, because he wanted to be sure he'd have a good view.

"She'll never find out. She's on the bloody other side of Paris," he kept his look locked with the burgundy curtains as Regulus nodded.

"That's right, but...—" he stilled, and frowned. "Hey, isn't that..." and stilled again.

"Hmm?" Sirius looked up in question, finally diverting his attention to his brother, but Regulus shook his head.

"No, it can't 've been—never mind," he shrugged, and looked down at the stage too, "I just thought I recognised someone."

Sirius was about to reply when everything suddenly went dark. The entire room went quiet almost immediately—a spotlight drew the people's attention to the burgundy curtain and the stage came in view. Sirius crossed his legs and stared at it intensively—he was sure it was going to be a great show, and just couldn't wait. He saw the balconies of upper floors teeming as men got out their chairs to have a better look, and heard many catcalls for the mysterious Ruby. And then the light suddenly shifted higher up to the ceiling, and the music started playing.

**AN: first chap. Review if you want more.**


	2. Too much of a Delicious Nightmare

C**hapter two:** In the House of Jewels all is Too much of a Delicious Nightmare to Register

**AN: ****'The House of Jewels' is the name of the brothel Sirius and his brother go to—I just realise I hadn't said that earlier. I'm thinking about maybe changing the title, but I'm kinda okay with how it is right now, so yeah. The song is 'come one closer' by 'Jem'. Just a heads up, in case you wanna listen while reading. This chapter isn't rated M—but the next one will be, so, ye be warned!**

The curtains slid open, and the circle of light focussed on a trapeze, lowering slowly down to a platform on the stage. Surrounding the platform, there were dancers—dressed in frilly skirts and holding girly umbrellas. They moved slowly to the music, but no one really paid attention to them. There was a boy standing on the trapeze swaying his ass in time with the soft beat. He had his back turned to them, and had a white shirt on, just reaching below the curve of his behind. Above the shirt he was wearing a black vest, and his stockings reached mid-thigh, the white lace almost touching the fabric of his white boxer-briefs. Above the stockings there were black-and-white tube socks, reaching halfway his leg and there was a black topper on his head. In his hand was a dark wooden cane, securely locked around the ropes of the trapeze—for safety as well as show.

Sirius had to admit that the boy was really pretty—he hadn't even seen his face yet, and already he was making a fine picture to watch. He recognised the music, and stared enthralled as the lithe body moved to it—a sharp swing of the hips every time the heavy beat reverberated through the old theatre. As soon as the boy put one foot to the floor of the platform everyone catcalled and whistled—the older man, Lee, went berserk, stomping his fist on the balustrade in encouragement.

The boy got off the trapeze—still moving rhythmically, and turned slowly, putting one foot on the first step down—and they could see the black tie around his neck. As soon as he gave his hat a little poke, revealing his face completely, Sirius went into cardiac arrest.

Remus Lupin was standing right there, looking absolutely delicious and perfect and drop-dead-gorgeous—never mind that Sirius wasn't supposed to think all that, it was besides the point. Remus was there, showing off the goods to the whole of Paris, shaking and being followed by that light with everyone's eyes on him, probably trying to burn the sight on their retina to use it for jerking off later and he was _so_... and... it _had_ to be forbidden, but Sirius couldn't stop watching.

_Come on closer, I wanna show you, what I'd like to do._

He stepped down, bending slightly through his knees as he shook his figure to the music, gesturing everyone over with a wriggle of his finger—the hand on his hip was such an overused move, but proved of excellent use as the whole room went quiet in awe, staring at the stage.

_You sit back now, just relax now, I'll take care of you._

Walking down the steps, he turned his body slowly, teasing the spectators with little bits of skin being revealed as he continued his way—twirling the cane in his hands, seemingly trying to lure the watchers into doing rather indecent things, if the hip thrusts were any indication.

_Hot temptations, sweet temptations, infiltrating through._

When he reached the stage, he used his cane as a dancing pole, slowly moving his hips against it before doing another turn.

_Sweet temptations, hot temptations, coming over you._

After that he discarded it—hundreds of hands reaching for the cane as he threw it into the crowd. Moving closer to the side of the stage, he dropped the black jacket down over his shoulders a bit, giving a wink.

_Come take it slow babe, do it my way, keep your eyes on me._

Swaying his hips in a slow circle, he leisurely made his way to the pole—seemingly stranded on the right side of the stage—dropping through his knees he lay down on his back, arching his chest into the air, and men whistled loudly at the move when he outstretched his legs moving them as if he were ridding a bicycle.

_Your reaction, to my actions, is what I want to see._

He rolled over to sit up on his knees, and tipped his hat to the side in a practiced move, giving them another wink as he rolled his hips. Roaming his hands over his body he raked his fingers over his thighs and undid the last button of his shirt first. Then he threw his tie off, biting his lip, twisting his face into a look pinned down to the finest perfection.

_Leave me open, or emotions infiltrating through._

Getting up he bent forward to the audience, turning his body in a fluent move as he stepped sideways to the pole. His hands flitted under his shirt, revealing the white garters plastered to his skin and his white underwear—the crowd went wild.

_Sweet temptations, hot temptations, coming over you._

He bent his leg back in a girly gesture, and took the last step towards the pole, his hands above his head. Some guys up front tried to get his attention, demanding he took of his clothes, _now_, but he shushed them by pressing a finger to his lips, and bending forward again, pressing his ass against the metal pole in the most _hotexcitingsexy_ gesture Sirius had ever witnessed.

He wriggled against it—more catcalls and screaming, and in reward he blew the audience a kiss—and then brought his back against it too, sliding down. Opening his legs obscenely he dropped his hat into his hands and quickly covered up, hiding his boxers and touching his exposed thighs. Moving up slowly he returned the hat to his head, and opened another button, shaking against the pole, as he eventually walked round it—now three buttons undone, and they could see some of the lace of his garters. He gracefully threw his leg around the pole, hugging it with his knee and the whole crowd cheered, showing off his inner thigh again. Swaying his hips in time with the tone of the music, he did a twirl around the pole, discarding his hat as he did.

_And now you're satisfied, a twinkle in your eyes, go to sleep for ten,_

With more thrusting against the pole he straightened up, and slowly swayed over to the centre of the stage—there were two dancers waiting there, dressed in black shorts and black tops with white ties—taking one of the background dancer's hand, he made a pirouette, and landed in the other boy's arms.

_And anticipating, I will be waiting, for you to wake again._

He took the boy's tie in his hand, and they danced slowly together, before he turned to the other boy. Swaying their hips together one of the boys undid another button, while the other unclasped his garters, the white stockings slipping down a bit.

_Hot temptations, sweet temptations, infiltrating through._

Pushing the boys away he twisted his body sensually, dancing to the music in tempting, deliberate movements, dropping through his knees and to the floor, thrusting his hips up in the air.

_Sweet temptations, hot temptations, coming over you._

He slowly rolled over and got up, one of the dancers offering a hand—he made a twirl and their bodies collided. Slowly he moved his hips against the other's, swaying out of the man's grasp, closer to his public.

_Hot temptations, sweet temptations, infiltrating through._

One of the boys came to stand right behind him, settling his hands on his hips as he moved the lean body to the music, from side to side. The brunette trailed his own hand up to the boy's neck, imitating a passionate embrace.

_Sweet temptations, hot temptations, coming over you._

There was only one button left to undo to this shirt, and he linked his leg with the other man's, did a rather impressive turn around the man's body, and went back to the stairs, where he lowered himself onto the final steps.

_Hot temptations, sweet temptations, infiltrating through._

Heaving his chest, he stiffened his legs, and bent one up—giving everyone a good look of his fair behind. His hand slid up his thigh to his foot, and one of the boys came over, taking his hand and pulling him away from the stairs and into his arms.

_Sweet temptations, hot temptations, coming over you._

With the last tones dying away, the tallest boy thrusted his hips against the brunette's—his chest against the boy's back—pulling off the black vest. The other discarded the shirt under loud applause, and embraced him, a hand on the back of his thigh, the brunette's legs tangling with his own. As the middle boy winked at his public, the curtains closed.

It was the sound of Regulus' voice that shook Sirius back to the land of the living—having been staring at the covered-up stage for five minutes straight.

"...come, because your friend's the act?" He focussed on his brother, who looked just as shocked as Sirius was—though he seemed to think Sirius had known.

Then he coughed once, and made up his mind—he didn't want to think about this, because if he would start thinking about it, in a place like this, it could only end badly. He gestured to Regulus' drink, downing his own.

"Just finish your drink and let's get out of here," he hoped he wouldn't run into Remus—that was the last thing he wanted. He needed to find a secluded area, jerk off, and then think about all the things he'd discovered about his best friend, while suppressing the memory of how good the brunette had looked in nothing but flimsy garters and briefs.

Of course, luck was not on Sirius' side. Regulus had barely touched his drink, when Remus appeared, apparently heading over to the bar. He had redressed, now wearing a red skirt and matching garters, together with a shirt that exposed his chest. From the looks of it he had quite some admirers—bills were sticking out of his stockings and skirt, and he was even getting money pressed into his hands as he walked by—even though the idea of people touching Remus like that, skimming their fingers over his thighs as they gave him a happy slap on his ass, made Sirius sick, he just couldn't tear his eyes away from the brunette.

"Ruru!" Remus had just passed their table—not noticing anything was off—when Lee called for him, and the brunette turned, smiling brightly as the man caught his hand.

"Hey sweety," Remus flopped down in the broad lap, and Sirius tried his hardest not to notice how the man's hand landed on to the boy's silky thigh. He winked at the man across from Lee, and Lee stuffed some money down his garters.

"You working tonight Ruru?" The man purred, and Remus pouted cutely at him.

"Not tonight darling, just serving," he shifted slightly and grinned when the man gasped, "I'm sorry doll, you're gonna have to find someone else to take care of that."

"No way you can be persuaded?" Lee snapped some more bills between his thigh and the lace, giving him a meaningful look.

"I'll tell you what, if you behave tonight, I'll give you a little extra tomorrow," Sirius did his best to just ignore everything Remus was saying—because this was so not like him. The teasing tone, the inviting movements, the sensual touches, the come-and-get-me act. _Not_ Remus. And Sirius was sure this really _wasn't_ Remus. It just couldn't be. "How 'bout that?"

"Hmm," the man pushed Remus' thighs apart, settling him more comfortable in his lap. It took everything Sirius had not to start yelling when he saw the hand disappearing under the skirt, and Remus bit his lip, "what extra?"

"You can have me anywhere you want babe," Remus promised, and wriggled cautiously out of the man's grasp. When Lee caught his wrist again, he clacked his tongue, "now, now, that's only if you behave tonight."

"Anywhere?"

"Of course sweetheart," Lee nodded his consent, waving more bills his way, and Remus allowed him to stick them between his belt and his skirt.

He gave Lee a wink, ran his hand over the other man's thigh—earning himself a slap on his ass and more money—and headed straight over to the bar.

"Si—" Regulus began silently.

"Shut up," Sirius hissed—forced himself to tear his eyes away from Remus' fine figure, and stood abruptly, "we're leaving."

--

"Excuse me?" Sirius tapped his fingers against the register, glancing about once—he felt more nervous than the first time, because now he knew Remus was here, and he didn't want the brunette to see him first. Oh no, he was going to make that bastard _pay_ for not telling him—for letting other people touch him, and watch him, and feel against his skin and...—he was so pissed off it was hard to control his anger. The night before he'd shattered one of the most expensive vases his mother had brought to the hotel-room. He just couldn't believe Remus would keep something like that a secret. Let stand, allow other people to...

"Oui monsieur?" the blonde girl smiled up at him, and he tried to relax somewhat.

"This is a brothel, right," he asked, just to be sure—she gave a nod, her smile turning devious, "I pay for the boy's body?"

"Oui," she wrote something down, twirling the pen in her hand, "do you have anyone in mind?"

"Ruby."

**AN: this has to be the worst chapter ever. It all went fine inside my head, but then suddenly I realised you guys don't have my head, so I was going to have to actually write the scene out. Oh, how deliciously wrong it went. Ugh. Remus is OOC, but you know... it'll be explained why he's OOC, if it isn't obvious. I love the idea of Remus as a whore... wait, that sounded wrong...**

**AN2: I know this was a pretty fast update, but I'd just said to myself: as soon as you get ten (or more) reviews for this chap, you'll update. So yeah. Here it is.**

**Oh: the more reviews I get, the sooner I update ;)**


	3. Anger becoming Anguish

C**hapter three:** The House of Jewels and its mysterious ways of Anger becoming Anguish

Sirius wasn't really nervous. He was pissed off—he wanted to hit something—but nervous, no. He pretended to not be where he was right now, and that was fine. Somehow he'd manage to get through, and even though he had no idea why he was acting the way he was, it was too late to change his mind now. If he wouldn't have been so pissed off, he probably would have rethought this—he probably would've been more sympathetic, he would've _felt_ something, besides this fuelling rage inside of him. But Remus had been right there and people had been touching him, and it drove Sirius absolutely mad—so mad that he didn't even want to think anymore, he wanted to blow a hole in his own head and just die. He was just so...

The door opened and his head snapped up immediately. He could vaguely make out Remus' form, but the boy closed the door immediately, and the room went pitch black again. There was a short silence, and Sirius shifted on the bed—no noise, and he remembered thinking that it were pretty damn good mattresses. Then Remus spoke, and he was reminded of the fact that his best friend—_the liar, the bastard, the traitor, the secret-keeper, the distrustful, the cheater_—was in the room.

"Nancy told me you want to do this in the dark, so you'll have to help me out here," Sirius knew Remus through and through, and if he wasn't mistaking, Remus wasn't smiling. He could tell, even though the room was completely dark, that Remus wasn't smiling—but did he know Remus at all, really? "Marco?"

"Polo," he masked his voice by speaking into his sleeve—it helped, making his voice sound vague and dusty.

"Oh, you're on the bed," he heard Remus' heels—no, that intruder, _Ruby_'s heels—clack on the floor, and then the noise stilled, as he came closer to the bed, and onto the carpet, "I think..." he reached, and poked Sirius' chest, "this is you?" And now Sirius thought he might just be smiling—but what did he know?

"Yeah, that's me."

"Do you want it like this? Or do you want to make yourself more comfortable?" The maybe-smile was gone again, and Sirius turned his head, even though he couldn't see anything.

"Like this's good," and then he felt the hands against his thighs and his breathing caught in his throat.

This was Remus. He wanted Remus—he loved Remus. But this, this wasn't good. He wanted Remus, but not like this—what had he been thinking? This was so incredibly wrong. He was mad at the brunette, but this was _not_ a good way to handle the situation. Of course, than again, it would serve him right, lying to Sirius like that. Playing the goody goody virgin boy he obviously wasn't. Pretending to be someone he was not, and being perky about it. Being smart and scolding at Sirius for being so crude. How...—he felt deft fingers undo his fly, and couldn't believe it: he was hard, even though he was fully aware of the fact that it was Remus and it was _wrong_.

When he felt plump lips wrap themselves around his member a light bulb popped up inside his head. This was Remus. Remus, Remus, _Remus_. He was angry, but this was not supposed to happen. They were...—the wet, velvety heat moved up and down around him, applying more suction, and something snapped inside him—he brutally grabbed Remus' shoulders and hoisted him up, ignoring the small whimper of surprise the boy let out.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Remus!"

The room fell quiet, and Sirius could almost see Remus' eyes burn in the dark.

"Si...—sirius?" he chocked out, and Sirius outstretched his arm, switching on the lights.

As soon as their eyes locked, Remus' brimmed with tears, and he pushed himself away, falling to the floor.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Sirius sneered—and he knew he shouldn't be this angry, and he should be reasonable, but he couldn't. "Tell me Remus, my pal," he laced his voice with sarcasm, unable to contain his rage, "fellow Marauder, how much's that pretty pink mouth of yours worth?"

Remus' eyes only widened and he crawled backwards to the wall, staring at Sirius with scared eyes—but Sirius didn't care, and he kicked against the door, making sure Remus wouldn't be able to leave.

"Is the guy I know just a role you play to encase more money? I'm sure those fucking bastards love the school-boy act," he ranted on—his voice was so load he was sure someone must've heard, but nothing happened, "you make me sick: you're in a fucking skirt! You're a bloody _whore_, how the fuck could you not have told me," Remus spilled his tears onto his cheeks, but despite the crying, his eyes suddenly glowed darkly. Sirius ignored it, wanting to yell until his throat was raw, "you fucking sell your body! You trade money for your sexual services! How many—"

"SHUT UP!" Remus interrupted him, voice load and eyes shooting fire. He scampered to his feet, pointing an angry finger at Sirius. "DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE ME!" he screamed, and their eyes locked again. Sirius could feel the anger leaving his body, melting like snow in the sun. "You're supposed to be my friend! And then you come here, and you just treat me like a whore and use me like one too. Don't bloody pretend to care, because you don't seem to mind when it's your dick that's getting the attention."

He left the room—tears still running down his face, and Sirius gasped, shutting his eyes. He wasn't angry anymore, but was now positive he'd never felt such pain in his chest. What had he done?

**AN: I know this is really dark, because Sirius' initial thought when he found out that Remus worked there, wasn't: 'oh no, my poor friend is being forced to work as a whore!' but 'those bitches are touching what is mine goddammit!' but to be honest, I think that might actually be a Sirius-ish thing to think when he's pissed off. He comes over as quite possessive and sometimes very selfish, so I don't think he's OOC—at all, actually.**

**I know it's short, but there was nothing more to it. Ah, also: I want like... at least ten reviews, or I'm not updating!**


	4. Sin is No Shame

C**hapter four:** The House of Jewels where Sin is no Shame

Sirius flopped down by the table Regulus and he had been at the other night, and scanned the room for Remus—he had to talk to him. They needed to make this right, Remus needed to explain, he needed to speak to Sirius and just make him _understand_.

He was gathering his strength, downing an amber-coloured liquid, when suddenly he heard a familiar voice.

"Ruru!" He snapped around at the sound of the feral purr, and saw Lee sitting on a comfy looking couch, not so far away from him.

Remus was standing by a supporting beam, and his eyes were focussed on Sirius—he looked as if he was just on his way over, and Sirius damned the older man. The boy looked absolutely edible, with pale stockings and a lilac frilly fabric—not worth calling a skirt—that just covered his ass. His white shirt was tucked in, and his outfit looked a bit like a dress, a belt covering up the seam between his skirt and top. Sirius bit his lip, but when he saw the angry glint in Remus' eyes, he decided that maybe it was a good thing Lee had attracted his attention. Then Remus turned to Lee and smiled pleasantly—Sirius knew it was a fake-smile, and attentively followed their movements.

"I was waiting for you," the man grasped his wrist and Remus sat down in his lap. Lee immediately planted his hands on Remus' thighs. Even though Remus leaned back against the man's chest, he locked his eyes with Sirius'—never wavering, as if challenging him, to do something, _anything_. But Sirius lost his courage, and stared enthralled at the two, "you didn't forget your promise, did you?"

"Of course not—did you cash in with Nance?" The brunette hummed softly—Sirius could barely hear him, but if thanks to his canine hearing they were still understandable.

"Yep," the man grinned and took his wallet from the side-table, "and there's more where it came from."

"What did you have in mind then?" Remus asked politely—in a rather businesslike tone, as if they were dealing cars—somehow he managed to still sound pleasant, coaxing Lee into bargaining with him. His eyes remained linked with Sirius', and the raven couldn't get himself to look away.

"Here's good Ruru," Lee purred and Remus gave a nod.

Sirius wasn't even surprised—he'd passed many fucking couples on his way to the second floor, and loads of men were dry humping on the dance-floor—he just wondered if Remus would go through with it, knowing that Sirius was right there, and watching. He seemed to be the only one listening to the conversation, everyone else too busy having a good time. But Sirius couldn't stop—not even when Remus moved up a bit, and bend his body so he could undo the man's fly.

Remus got up and didn't even as much as flinch when Lee reached out to unclasp his garters—he lowered his underwear himself, down his thighs and over the stockings, and bent over to take them off the floor. Sirius was sure he did it to give Lee a view, and he tried to ignore the sting he felt in his heart. He couldn't stop watching.

Lee's hands settled on Remus' behind and pulled him back down on his lap. The brunette teased the man, moving his hips over his groin, and Sirius could hear him groan in approval.

"Like this sweety?" Remus asked softly, arching his back against the man.

"Yeah, close to me Ruru," Remus wrapped an arm around the man's neck, and shifted, using his free hand to push his body up.

He agilely put a foot against the side of the couch, balancing his figure above the man's—Sirius could see his pale thighs were separated, but their eyes were still locked and he didn't dare look down. Lee placed his hands on Remus' hips, and pushed his skirt up, bunching it up against his back. Slowly Remus guided himself down, and his knuckles turned white as he grabbed on to the couch—Lee groaned again, and his eyes fell shut, his lips caressing Remus' shoulder.

"Feels good, don't it?" Remus asked, his voice a bit heavy, when Lee was sheathed completely—and Sirius really wished he could stop looking, could stop _hearinglisteningseeing_, but he couldn't.

"Real good Ruru," the man opened his eyes, and looked at the boy—even though he couldn't see his face. He slid his hands between Remus' thighs, shifting him slightly, and Remus gasped, "and you're so pretty," racking his hands over Remus stockings, he pushed one down, feeling against his skin, "so beautiful."

"Thank you sweety," Remus said in a teasing tone, and he slowly started moving, "just relax and let me make you feel good."

The man nodded in agreement, and his head fell to the brunette's shoulder again. Remus moved on top of the man—Lee's hips falling into rhythm with his own—his legs obscenely spread, but his eyes never strayed from Sirius'. They seemed to be alighted, and Sirius really wanted to look away but found it impossible. He didn't even see their bodies, really. At first he was still very much aware of the older man grunting and thrusting up into Remus, but then it just faded away. Remus didn't make a sound, but Lee was too busy to notice—soon Sirius could only see Remus' eyes, all the rest so trivial. They were burning holes in his soul and Sirius didn't quite mind. Remus' body and his hips and legs and arms just sunk away into nothingness and there were just those amber eyes, like fire blazing with his. And suddenly it wasn't Lee and Remus, but Sirius and Remus, and it's where Sirius felt good, so he didn't even care.

Lee continued whispering nonsensical things against Remus' shoulder, but the boy zoned it all out. It wasn't until he gave a particularly rough thrust that the eye-contact broke—just a second, wherein Remus flinched and shut his eyes away from the world. When he opened them again, Sirius was still there, but so was Lee, and he was sharp and pinpointed inside of him. And it didn't feel as good as he'd said earlier, but it was what it was and that's it.

After the second of lost eye-contact, Sirius could see the whole picture again, and he bit his lip. Remus was right there, being fucked by a robust man, and he still couldn't stop staring. He watched entranced as they picked up speed, and Remus' hand deftly sought for something on the table. He reached for a handkerchief, and brought his hand to his back, losing it between his body and the other's.

"I can feel you're close sweety," Remus whispered softly, and Sirius saw his legs tense as he brought his body down again, "you know the rules."

"Mmm, two more Ruru," Remus nodded, and Lee kissed his shoulder, "make them good."

Remus slowly got up, tensing up his whole body to make himself as tight as possible, and the older man moaned hoarsely. Then he sat back down, _sofasthard_, and repeated the move. Lee threw back his head when Remus moved off the third time, and as Remus placed himself between the man's legs, Sirius deducted that he'd come—in the handkerchief, probably—he saw the fire flare and burn down in Remus' eyes, and they both finally looked away, as if suddenly it was something intimate and they were blushing—yet it wasn't, and they weren't.

The brunette put his feet down, moving off the spent body of the other man, and stood carefully, wobbling a bit. Sirius looked up again, seeing him clean himself of the man's sperm—a bit had gotten onto his back and dribbled down his thigh—he discarded the handkerchief, and pulled up his underwear. Turning, he kissed Lee's cheek, and made sure he was zipped up nicely, taking care of the man. He then put his foot next to the man's knee, exposing his thigh as he reattached his stockings to his garters.

Lee looked up at him through half lidded eyes, a smile playing on his lips. He reached for his wallet, and took all the bills out, handing them to Remus—who didn't even look surprised.

"You get better every time Ruru," he smirked while he tucked the money safely up against the boy's thigh, "I can't wait until the next."

"Thank you darling," he fixed his other stocking, and brushed off his skirt. Giving the man's other cheek a kiss too, he made amends to leave, "what'll you have to drink—it's on me."

"Whiskey's good," Lee tiredly nodded and Remus gave him a wink, before heading off to the bar.

Sirius waited, finding himself in a sort of daze. He couldn't really describe the feel—it felt most like a post-orgasmic state, even though he hadn't even been part of their sexual activity. When Remus returned with Lee's drink, Sirius bit his lip and got up, scrambling all his courage together.

"I'd like to talk to you," Remus turned in surprise, since he hadn't heard him approach—his eyes lit up at meeting Sirius' again, but he tipped up his eyebrow in mockery.

"I'm working," he said, head held high, posing a hand in his side, and Lee shrugged.

"He's easier if you tip 'em," the man smiled at Sirius, but Sirius ignored his advice.

"I can wait," he crossed his arms, and watched how Remus nervously shifted—he had him. Remus only nervously shifted when he was about to give in.

"Fine."

He decided to not sit next to the man that had just fucked his best friend, and went back to his original seat, waving over one of the waiters. He made it a point to make sure not to order anything from Remus—Remus was his friend, and after his screw-up earlier, it seemed important to not treat him as servant.

His eyes followed the brunette everywhere he went—serving people, flirting with the men, receiving lots of tips. He just wanted to make clear that he wasn't going anywhere. Eventually—even though the house was still crowded—Remus flopped down in front of him, his eyes coldly staring straight ahead.

"I can get you something to drink if you want?" Sirius offered, but Remus just took Sirius' glass, sipping some of the expensive scotch.

There were a few awkward minutes, before Sirius finally caved in, and started blabbering—like he usually did in situations that were beyond him.

"Remus, listen, I really don't know what to say. I know I'm supposed to be fixing this but... you're Remus Lupin, my Moony, my best friend with his little furry problem, a little bit booksy but absolutely perfect, and then I come here and everyone's touching you and it seems okay and I wish I had known it's okay because I've been wanting to touch you since we first met."

As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted saying them—he should've rephrased that. He should've put it differently, and he should've kept it friendly. Now he sounded like a love-sick puppy, which, as hard as it was to admit it, he really was. But never mind, Remus wasn't supposed to know. Averting his eyes, he focused on the people dancing a floor below, and tried to stop his heart from beating so fast. He really had no idea what it was doing exactly—seemed to him it was doing its best to punch a hole in his chest.

When he felt a tingling sensation, spreading from his fingers through his entire core, he looked back at the brunette—the boy had placed an uncertain hand on his own, and was trying to make eye contact.

"I'm sorry," Remus whispered, and then diverted his eyes in shame, "I... went about this all wrong and..."

"Hey," he was interrupted when a redheaded girl put her hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention, "Madam wants to talk to you," she gave a nod to the staircase, "now, she said."

"Right, give me one minute," she left again, giving him a rather impatient look, and he turned to Sirius, "I have to go—listen, can you meet me up in my room, so we can talk about this?"

"Yeah, sure," Sirius smiled, revelling in the feel of their hands touching still, "which way's that?"

"Just wait ten minutes—then you go up to the roof. By the far end there's a fountain that looks like a windmill. If you stand directly next to it, and look down, there's a balcony. You can use the drainpipe to get there—the glass door that leads to it, also leads to my room," Remus said quickly, glancing about nervously.

"Sjeesh," Sirius gave a fake-sigh, grinning at the brunette, "things are never easy with you, are they Moony?"

"I thought you liked a little challenge Padfoot," Remus smirked and got up, "and besides, if you try to get in my room using the actual door there's a chance the guard'll shoot you."

Sirius palled, staring at his friend's retreating back.

"You're kidding, right!" He called—all he got in reply was a wink, and that wasn't too comforting.

**AN: I just want to say that I don't mean to like... show the profession of escorts as a bad thing. I know some people enjoy their work, even if they do have sex with men for money—I don't mean this to be offensive, but I do want to point out (and you'll see that in the next chapter) that Remus doesn't do this by choice, so if I sometimes show this profession off as negative, and offend anyone by doing so, I would like to apologise beforehand. Please, if I'm out of line just let me know.**

**I have to explain about the handkerchief: it's a muggle brothel, so AIDS and shit like that exists (when I write in the 'wizarding world' I pretend that the wizards have a cure so I don't have to add condoms and stuff)—and the best prevention is just not coming inside, right.**


	5. The Truth will Set you Free

C**hapter five:** The House of Jewels where the Truth will Set you Free

Sirius leisurely lowered himself down to the wet stones—being careful not to get stuck on one of the pipe's bolts. If last week someone would've told him he'd be climbing down the drainpipe of a whorehouse, he would've laughed hard and long—now it didn't even surprise him anymore. Climbing down drainpipes was the least of his worries. Remus was there, and from the looks of it Sirius was absolutely positive Remus didn't _want_ to be there, and Sirius was going to fix it. He had to—Remus was his best friend. He couldn't just leave him hanging.

Sirius found the glass door soon enough—the balcony wasn't that big, and he decided he could always enjoy the view later—he was just about to knock, when he paused. Remus' room was absolutely huge. There were multiple wardrobes, a king-sized bed—with pillows, and even teddy-bears—a dresser, even a bathtub. It seemed more like a suite. Almost every surface in the room was covered with vases and flowers—what Sirius didn't get was where all the brunette's books were. He didn't spot a bookrack, not even a stray book lying on his desk or on the bed. Frowning, he focussed on his friend instead—or what he assumed to be his friend. The tub was partly visual, placed behind a screen, and he could see a silhouette moving. The figure was crouched next to the bath, and stood suddenly. Sirius felt a bit pervy—waiting there by the window, and secretly hoping to catch a bit of his friend's naked body.

And it was indeed Remus. The boy was dressed in a silk robe, and had assumingly drawn a bath. He walked towards his dresser, when he suddenly noticed Sirius, and smiled—coming over to the glass door instead.

"Wauw, you're still completely intact," Remus opened the door, beckoning him in, "I'm shocked. Sit."

"Before I do, you have to talk to me Moony," Sirius bit his lip, and Remus sat down at his dresser—putting on his you're-making-me-nervous-and-I'm-sure-you-have-your-reasons-but-would-you-mind-sharing look, "I mean—if you want to do this kinda work I understand, and you can tell me if this is your choice but I..."

"Sirius, sit. I can explain," Remus interrupted urgently, with some desperation in his voice. He pointed to the bed, "and you just climbed down a drainpipe, and I'm sure you're pumping with adrenaline, but I still want you to sit."

"I'm sitting," Sirius flopped down on the bed, and looked expectantly at Remus—said boy gave a sigh, and focussed on his reflexion in the mirror, avoiding Sirius' eyes.

"My aunt owns this place," he started—and even though Sirius already wanted to jump in, insult his aunt and whatnot, he refrained, deciding that letting the boy say what he had to would be best, "I've lived here for as long as I can remember. When I was nine she said I had pretty legs—I didn't think much of it. Sometimes she made me walk around in a skirt in front of old guys and serve them drinks—she gave me treats if I let them grab my ass," he shrugged—because it sounded weird but it was true and he was used to it. He didn't really care about it any more. So much had happened that he couldn't give a fuck. This was Sirius—he knew the boy would understand, "when I was twelve she told me I better start using my mouth for something else than talking, or she'd put me on the street. I had nowhere else to go—she's all I got. So I started working here as waiter, hoping that if I earned her money doing that, she wouldn't make me do all those other things her boys did. I remember the first time she made me go into one of those little rooms—I don't think I ever screamed that loud. Not even during my transformations. The guy told me he liked it when they put up a bit of a fight, and I relaxed immediately—thought maybe he wouldn't want it if I did what he said," Remus rolled his eyes at himself in the mirror, a smile on his face still, and Sirius held his breath, "stupid of course, but whatever. Not a month later she announced that my virginity would be sold to the highest bidder—she knows how to make money that one, it drew out for over a year. I have to say I was lost for a little while. But I guess you kinda get used to it—and since Hogwarts it's only two months in a year of doing this. My aunt wouldn't let me go to Hogwarts at first—I threatened to run away, go to London by myself without her knowing, and she said yes. She was afraid that if I got to Hogwarts, I might meet people who agreed to take me in during holidays—afraid I'd tell Dumbledore so that she wouldn't have me at all. That's the only reason she let me go. She pays for everything—all worn-down, of course. She wouldn't want to spoil me. As long as I come back here."

Sirius was quiet for a while, everything Remus'd just said sinking in. He tried to process it all, tried to imagine how it must've been for Remus—what hell it must've been like. Apparently his story had ended, because he turned around, not making eye-contact, and fumbled with his stockings, which he was still wearing under the robe, waiting for Sirius to say something—_anything_.

"Remus, I want to help you," the latter said quietly, but it was the truth so it needed to be said, "will you please let me help you? Please—let me take you away."

"Sirius how would you..." Remus began, but Sirius stood.

"We have room enough at my place Moony—I mean: we have all these bedrooms we don't even use. You can easily come live with me," he sat down on one knee in front of Remus, placing his hand on the younger boy's, "please Moony, say you'll come with me. You can trust me. Let me _help_ you."

"Are..." Remus stuttered, finally looking at the raven. He felt his hand tingle where Sirius touched him—but he needed to be sure. If he was going to get his hopes up, Sirius better not be lying to him, "are you sure?"

"Of course! My mum's not the nicest person in the world, but she'll help her son's friends when they're in trouble. Please Moony, come with me?"

"You... you'll take me away _forever_?" And somehow Sirius flying him off, keeping him safe for always, sounded way better than it should have.

"Forever Moony—we're leaving in two weeks. I'll just take you home—you can come live with us, you'll never have to be here ever again. I promise, I'll take you away."

Before he could say anything else, Remus had already flung himself around him—he could hear the brunette sobbing , and sympathetically rubbed his back.

"I'm sorry Moony," he whispered, referring to their earlier incident—but he felt Remus shake his head.

"No, I'm the one that's sorry," Remus held on tighter, burying his head in Sirius' neck, "what I did... was quite indecent. And you're my best friend, I should've told you."

"It wasn't indecent," Sirius murmured in the chestnut hair—he knew Remus was talking about his rendez-vous with Lee, "you were with me the whole time."

Remus pulled back enough so he could see Sirius' face—when he found him smiling, he smiled too, whipping away some stray tears.

"Remus!" They froze when a woman's voice called and someone rapped on the door, both turning to it. "Remus! Are you still in there?"

"I'm in the bathtub aunt," Remus stood, going over to his dresser again. He took off his shoes, setting them next to the chair, and turned back to Sirius, "I'll be out soon."

They heard a grunt and heavy footsteps leaving, and Remus scratched the back of his head.

"Erm, listen, I seriously need to clean myself up a bit, so..." he began nervously, and Sirius gave a nod.

"Of course. Is it okay if I... erm... wait?"

"Look," Remus bit his lip, and he went over to the screen, pushing it aside. The white, marble bathtub came in view—it was rather spacious—already filled halfway, and Remus had put some bathfoam in the water, so there were suds with all the colours of the rainbow, "there's bubbles, and I mean, I've seen you naked, you saw me naked—probably saw me strip too—you can join, I mean, if you want to."

"Would you mind if I do?" Sirius questioned, and Remus grinned broadly.

"I wouldn't ask you if I did," he got his wand out of his robe, and used it to securely lock the door and close the curtains, "just put your clothes on the bed."

Sirius did as he was told, while Remus got out his next outfit and put it on the bed next to Sirius' suit. Soon he was down to his underwear, and to buy himself some time he neatly folded his clothes. When he found nothing else to occupy him, he pushed down his boxers and—without looking at Remus—sat down in the bathtub.

Remus hadn't even taken off his robe yet, busy with assembling garters and stockings.

"Man, that takes a lot of time—how many times do you change a day?" Sirius asked, trying to make small talk.

"As many times as my aunt makes me," Remus shrugged, "it varies. Not to mention that if a guy spills on my clothes instead of in the handkerchief, I have to change the entire outfit again. The clothes are actually pretty fun—a bit weird, but I like the shirts."

He smiled, setting a pair of navy-blue high-heeled shoes next to the bed, and outstretched. Absentmindedly he ran over the items of clothing on the bed, as he took off his robe, hanging it over the screen by the bath. He suddenly felt eyes burning into his back and turned to Sirius, finding the boy staring at his garters.

"Don't you dare laugh," he chuckled, and Sirius eyes shot up—widening like a deer caught in headlights, "I like them and I have to wear them for the job."

"They're really sexy Moony," Sirius smirked, happy he could joke about things like that. He always flirted with Remus, and even though everyone thought it was just for funs, he meant everything he said, "you should've showed me those a long time ago."

Remus laughed again, undoing them, as he put them on his bed. Then he pushed down his underwear—a bit uncertainly—and turned to Sirius, who was polite enough to close his eyes, and cover them up with his hands.

He sat down in front of his friend quickly, drawing his knees up to his chest—some of the water gushed over the side of the bath. Admiring Sirius' lean muscles he blushed when he noticed Sirius had opened his eyes again, feeling like a six-year-old caught behind the shed with a dirty magazine.

"Where are all your books?" Sirius asked, completely ignoring the fact that he'd just caught his friend ogling his body.

"I hide them," Remus inwardly sighed in relief, and swung his leg over the side of the tub, so he could wash it, as he continued to explain, "my aunt goes berserk if she sees any of my books lying around—she can be quite abusive," he took a sponge and rubbed fiercely at his inner thigh—destroying all evidence of his meeting with the older man. "It's weird," he suddenly said pensively, "no matter how much I scrub, it never goes away."

"What doesn't go away Moony?" Sirius was almost afraid to ask, because the dark tone Remus' voice had taken scared him.

"The wrong touch," Remus muttered, continuing his scrubbing—but Sirius put his hand on Remus' again, stopping his movements.

He didn't really know what to say that would make it better—if anything could—so instead he pulled the boy closer, and gave him another hug, holding him cautiously in his arms. If there was ever such thing as the wrong touch, Sirius was determined to make his the right one.

--

They dressed in almost complete silence. Sirius did his best not to continuously look at Remus as he got out of the tub, wrapping himself in a silk robe. He flopped down in his chair, drying off his legs as Sirius pulled on his shirt over his head.

The raven sat down on the bed and Remus pulled on a clean pair of stockings, the garters hidden under his red robe. When Remus noticed the boy looking at him, he smiled slightly, and turned to him.

"Sirius?"

"Hmm?" Sirius smiled too, finishing up the buttons of his jacket.

"Thank you," Remus looked down at his feet, drawing up his other stocking.

"What for?"

"For promising you'll take me away," he said in a small voice—and Sirius knew he meant it, which was all he could ever hope for.

**AN: I liked the way this chapter went, even though it's a bit short. Let me know your thoughts, and I'll update asap.**


	6. You Can Run but Never Hide

C**hapter six:** The house of Jewels where you Can Run but Never Hide

Remus woke up with a clenched jaw—a feeling he was rather used to by now—and a fuzzy feeling in his stomach. Working from eight 'til eight was always hard, definitely because that meant he had slim to no chance to catch a bit of the outside world. If his aunt was feeling generous he got a day and a night off per week—but needless to say, his aunt didn't feel generous often.

He outstretched, and gave a yawn—opening and closing his mouth a couple of time—and then stretched again. It seemed like last night the whole of Paris had wanted to get off, and had decided to use him as their fuck-toy. He hated the whole concept, but felt stupid for thinking about it. It'd been like that for years now, it really didn't do to keep on beating himself up about it. Besides, Sirius had promised to take him away—and he knew Sirius. Sirius was a man of his word.

Gnawing at his lip he went over to his wardrobe, picking out a black pair of jeans—it was rather cold outside, even though it was summer. He tucked his grey shirt down his pants and took a green jumper instead of a jacket.

When he left his room, the whole house was quiet—after all his aunt and he were the only ones there during the day. He knew his aunt was probably having breakfast and counting her earnings, up on the fourth floor. Passing an old guy who was scrubbing the floor, he went down a set of stairs. He always preferred leaving through the back exit, instead of using the front doors—at least that way he could pretend he didn't work in a whorehouse.

Tucking his hands deep into his pockets—it was even colder than he'd originally anticipated—he started his walk towards the centre of town, where no one knew him as Ruby but as Remus, who worked in the subs and read a lot of books. He'd always loved the city because leading a double life there was so easy. During the day he could be who he was on the inside, and at night he was what everyone else wanted him to be. That made it easier—to breathe and get on, just one day more.

When he reached the hotel Sirius was staying at, the latter was waiting outside—a thin cigarette dangling between his lips. He was wearing his black vest and fluffy red mittens, with navy blue jeans—he waved cheerily with one of the mittens, and Remus smiled, before crossing the street.

"Moony!" Sirius had spotted the brunette long ago, but he was too cold to move properly—why the hell was it so bloody freezing? It was summer, yet he felt like getting out his fuzzy wintercoat and wearing terminal underwear.

"Hey," Remus came to a stop in front of his friend, shivering slightly—Sirius eyed him once over, taking a drag from his cigarette—which was a bit hard with the mittens—keeping it between his rosy lips.

"You must be cold, Moony," Sirius carefully picked Remus' hands from his pockets, wrapping them in his own and folding them into his jacket, pressing them comfortably into his sides—he felt Remus grasp his waistcoat, his fingers brushing over his hip, "better?"

"Yeah," Remus huffed—his breath coming out in little puffs, "thank you."

"Maybe it's better if we go up to the hotel room," Sirius said, compassionate to Remus' feelings, "I would like ice-cream though," he added with a pout.

"Ice-cream? Siri," Remus giggled and the raven pulled him closer, allowing him to bury his head in the crock of Sirius' neck, "it's possibly freezing," he smiled up, hooking his fingers in Sirius' shirt. Then he continued: "there's a good parlour nearby."

"But you're cold," Sirius murmured, hugging Remus closer to his own body—feeling the nimble nails weave through the fabric of the waistcoat and shirt.

"We'll go up after we've gotten you ice-cream."

"You sure?" He discarded his cigarette, dropping it on the pavement and pulled back enough so he could see Remus' face.

The brunette was still smiling, and gave a clear nod. Then he shivered, and Sirius rolled his eyes, kissing his forehead.

"I have a better idea," he declared, petting the boy's cheek with his fluffy thumb—the palm of his hand pressing against his cheekbone, and Remus giggled at the feeling of the red fabric sliding against his skin, "we go up and order ice-cream using room-service."

"Okay," Remus nodded, biting his lip, "sounds good."

"Great! Come with me Moony!" Sirius did a happy dance and pulled away from his friend completely, dragging him into the hotel.

The man in the lobby bowed for them, but Sirius was too busy grinning to notice as they headed towards the elevator. It wasn't until the thing made a jingle sound, and the iron doors closed, that Sirius noticed his hand was still entwined with Remus'—he hadn't felt that warm tingle, because of his thick mittens. He had felt it when Remus' hands brushed his sides though, and it made him feel giddy, but bad at the same time. Because _friends_ aren't supposed to make you feel giddy!

--

"Pff, much better," Sirius took off his jacket and put it over the back of a chair, "though it's a bit too hot, I suppose—mum always leaves the heating on."

Taking off his mittens one by one he flopped down on the couch, and patted the empty space next to him. Remus inspected the suite—it was huge, and apparently he was only seeing the living room. Blacks liked it big—so much was sure.

"You can take off your sweater if you want," Sirius offered, tucking one leg under his body, "come on, sit—what kind of ice-cream do you want?"

"Oh no," Remus peeled off his jumper over his head before sitting next to Sirius—folding the green fabric in his lap, "I don't want..."

"Moony, either you willingly choose your favourite sort of ice-cream, or I choose and make you eat it," even though it wasn't a threat, Remus knew better than to take those words lightly—nonetheless he rolled his eyes and leaned his neck against the headrest.

"You're going to force-feed me ice-cream?" He queried, tipping up his eyebrows, and Sirius grinned.

"That is the plan Moony," Sirius took the phone, and winked, "so... you like chocolate with caramel, right?" Remus smiled and then nodded against his will—he couldn't help but be happy at realising that Sirius really knew him well, "room-service?" Sirius bit his lip, staring up at the ceiling, "erm... je desiré... icecream?" He tried, and Remus chuckled, "chocolat et caramel et... vanille..." the brunette could hear a man answer with a thick French accent and Sirius paused, "non, non... tout... erm... chambre... un seize sept..."

By the time he hung up the phone Remus was biting his lip to keep himself from laughing too hard, and Sirius send a playful glare his way.

"Wauw Padfoot, I had no idea you spoke French," Remus teased and Sirius stuck out his tongue childishly.

"Well I can't be perfect at everything I do Remmi," he tugged the boy closer, nuzzling him behind his ear as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder, "I'm really happy you're here Moony—I always miss you during the holidays. How do you feel?"

"I'm fine," Remus murmured, flattering his head against Sirius' shoulder, closing his eyes at the feeling, "just tired—there were so many guys last night, I didn't even knew they came in that many sizes, seriously, this one guy..." he paused abruptly and his eyes shot open, linking with Sirius' in guilt and shame, "'m sorry I..."

"Oh please, crudeness is not a problem with me," Sirius' grin turned cheeky, "you can tell me anything you want Moony—you know I won't judge you because of it."

"I know but I... it's weird because I'm used to telling you everything—and now you're here and it's like there're things I shouldn't say."

"Remmi I get that it's hard for you," Sirius hugged him closer, nuzzling him above his ear, "but I'm here now—I know, it's too late to change that—and I'm glad that I know and I want to help. So don't try to ban it out your life like you tried to do with your lycanthropy at first. It happened and it's not going to go away—it will always have been there, so talk to me about it. You can."

"I just don't want you to think I like working there," Remus muttered.

"Laughing about it or talking about it doesn't mean you like it—it simply means that you acknowledge that it happened," Sirius said matter-of-factly, "now you were talking about different penis sizes and I have to say that I was quite intrigued."

At this Remus chuckled, and he thankfully wrapped his arms around Sirius' hips, flattering his head against his shoulder again.

"Well, all I meant was that if it's possible to sprain your jaw—I did and it's his fault. Good tipper though."

Sirius' chest shook in silent laughter and he kissed Remus' head—at least he knew that although Remus was hurt, he wasn't so terribly messed up that he locked the world away. If he could joke about this, it meant he had accepted it, and that perhaps he would be able to move on without it leaving an all too big mark.

"Was he pretty?" The question was asked before Sirius could stop himself—no matter the fact that he really wanted to be there for his friend, he couldn't help feeling a sting of jealousy. Because everyone was touching Remus but him.

"Who?" Remus questioned, voice a bit muffled by Sirius' waistcoat.

"The guy with the huge dick," Sirius mumbled, and he felt Remus tense for just a second—then he flattered closer against Sirius' chest and his arms tightened around his hips.

"No."

"What was wrong with him?" Sirius pressed—if he knew what type of guys Remus liked than maybe... "Didn't you like his hair—or maybe the way he was build? Why was he not your type?"

"He was the type that paid me to suck him off," Remus quirked his eyebrows and tried to look up at Sirius—the boy was resolutely looking the other way, "I guess that kinda put me off."

"Do you like... ever like them?" Sirius glanced at the brunette from the corner of his eye, and saw him frown in thought.

"No," he then said determinately—suddenly Sirius felt the boy's hand against his cheek, and he was turned to look his friend straight in the face, "I never like them—they can't turn me on. They're not good enough. They don't make me feel."

Sirius wanted to tell Remus he could do that—he could make the brunette feel, and feel good too—he knew he could make him moan and purr and huff and... _yes_. He knew he could love the brunette in any way he wished, and he would tell him... but then there was a knock on the door, and Remus turned to it, their eye-contact broken.

A young girl pushed the door to the room open, dragging a trolley in behind her. Sirius smiled at her as she babbled something in fast French—placing silver bowls with ice-cream and fancy spoons on the sidetable.

They ate ice-cream and talked all day—in the end Sirius figured that nothing mattered, because Remus was right there with him and it was good.

**AN: I want at least fifteen reviews for this –tries to look stern- -fails- -whimpers- fine. Ten then. But seriously, I hope this isn't getting to be a drag for you guys, so do review. Ten and I'll update! Let me know your thoughts.**


	7. Jealousy is Passion

C**hapter seven:** The House of Jewels where Jealousy is Passion

**AN: ...I suppose this one could count as sexually insinuating? But than again, aren't they all?**

"Remus, you can't stop me," Sirius said resolutely, "I'm coming with you and that's it!"

He heard Remus grunt in frustration—the dissatisfied brunette's head popping back out from under the bed—because of Sirius' comment or the fact that he couldn't find his other red shoe, Sirius couldn't be sure.

"You can't," Remus retorted, hurrying back to his dresser, where he pulled open the drawers in search of the shoe, "you know I have to work and I don't want you to see..."

"Remmi," Sirius cooed softly, wrapping his arm around the boy's slim waist and pulling him into his body, "I was there when a guy decided fucking you would be nice," he purred the words against his friend's pale neck and could feel him shiver, "I wanna be there with you. Let me protect you."

When he looked sideways to see the boy's face, Remus' eyes had slipped shut and his lips had parted. He grinned inwardly, felt Remus relax in his arms, and tightened his hold. He wouldn't very much mind if they stayed like that forever—if only to make sure no one else but him could hold the brunette like this. As wrong as it was, he still enjoyed holding the vulnerable frame close, knowing that he was the only one Remus trusted—and even though Sirius would never wish his friend any harm, he embraced every moment of weakness, because it were times when he could have Remus like this—close and unmasked. Sirius felt Remus sigh delicately, tugging at his skirt with on hand, setting the other on Sirius' half-exposed stomach.

"Sirius..." he muttered, giving a lopsided grin, eyes closed in bliss.

"Mhm?" Sirius flattered his head against the brunette's shoulder in a very Padfootish way.

Remus chuckled as the raven hair brushed his exposed shoulder, and opened his eyes to meet the silver ones—Remus' shinning in mirth.

"Help me find my shoe," he said as if it was a big secret, a teasing smile sounding through the words.

Sirius laughed too, but didn't release the brunette.

"You're going to have to let me go," Remus smiled, but he sounded hesitant, as if he really didn't want him to, "you know that."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Sirius smirked, and unwrapped his arm from around the brunette's slim hips, "I'll protect you."

"I can't let you come down with me Sirius," Remus sighed and lowered his head in shame, "I don't want you to see me while I work."

"I want to be there for you, I don't care what you say," he nuzzled Remus' neck, trying to coax him into agreeing, "I will not leave you."

His friend gave him a piercing look, weighing his chances. When he saw the dark swirl in Sirius' eyes, he realised that he didn't have a choice, really, as Sirius would follow him no matter what he told him, and gave a small smile, nodding in acquiescence.

-

This had not been a good idea. Sirius knew it had not been a good idea when he found himself staring at the old man's hands on Remus' ass, unable to even look away to order another drink. He was bloody pissed off, and he had known he would be. He had expected it, even from before he had managed to persuade Remus—he was a jealous bastard, and of course he would be pissed off, watching hands touch what was rightfully his.

And _of course_, he had started drinking whiskey, because that is what _everyone_ does when they are angry—which does not necessarily mean it ever actually helps cool you down.

When you are doing everything in your might, not to beat the sense out of the man touching _your_ Moony, whiskey is not a good idea. What was even worse was the fact that Sirius could do nothing about this situation. He had been strictly warned by Remus not to do anything. If his aunt found out that Sirius had been there more than once, every single time for Remus, without giving him tips or paying to sleep with him, Remus would be in big trouble. And it made Sirius feel so out of control—knowing that the only thing he could do was stand there and watch, _watch those filthy hands flit across frilly fabric and disappear underneath_—it only made him angrier.

So Sirius had to sit back and watch people grope his best friend. And he did not like it at all—so he ordered another whiskey, intensely staring at Remus as he was passed between the customers, the amount of money between his lacy stockings growing as the night wore on. Remus would dance with a man, before another took him, moving his hips by force, practically dry-humping. What was worse of all, was that Remus was wearing his _Ruby_ face. A fake, wanton look of love and lust, all the while his eyes were trying to lock onto Sirius', his mouth opened in feigned pleasure, sometimes an artificial moan passing his lips, drowned out by hard music.

Sirius despised the _Ruby_ face. And not because it wasn't sexy—because he knew that face alone could drive him over the edge—but because it wasn't Remus and Remus was all he wanted. He hated it, but another part of him loved it, knowing that _his_ Remus was not shared with these men. At least _his_ Remus was a sight they would never see—his Remus was _still_ his, even though his body was in another's hands—and that knowledge, messed up as it may be, managed to make him feel slightly more okay with the whole situation.

When someone had the decency to slide a hand between Remus' thighs—just as the brunette was coming over to Sirius, in order to have a drink—he completely freaked out.

Before he could stop himself, he was moving between the sweating bodies, onto the dancefloor. He grabbed Remus' hand, and pulled him out of the other man's arm—giving him a glare—into his own.

When Remus turned his head slightly, and noticed Sirius was the one that had taken him, he bit his lip.

"Siri, what—"

"We're just dancing," Sirius whispered into his ear—ignoring how he _shouldn't be _and focusing only on the _want _pumping through his veins—not managing to control the urge, he nipped the lobe softly, murmuring: "you should probably pretend to like it."

"You mean..." the boy took Sirius' arms teasingly, slowly sliding them down his body, and then wrapping them around his own hips, pushing back against Sirius' muscled body—more for comfort than actual show, because _Sirius _was where he felt safe, "like this?"

He kissed the raven's neck and swayed their hips together in time with the music. Their eyes locked, Remus' shining with joy, Sirius' darkened with lust. It was not a very special thing Sirius saw, but it was the first time since they arrived at the dancing area, that he had seen Remus smile that heartedly, a broad grin on his face. And even in Sirius' drunk-infused mind, the phrase _drop-dead-gorgeous_ registered.

"Yeah, that's good," Sirius flattered his head against the brunette's neck, giving it a peck.

He was absolutely positive that dancing had never been this nice before. Remus was close to him at all times, and their hips moving together was just _perfect_. The idea of ever letting go again didn't even occur to him, and he kept the lithe body enclosed in his arms, dancing to the beat. It was so fucking amazing, being in this position—it was all he ever wanted—and he never wanted it to stop.

The problem with dancing with a whore-house's main attraction was that everyone wanted to feel that way, forever.

They were halfway through their second song when a young blonde decided that Sirius had had enough quality time with the beautiful brunette, and tugged at Remus' hand.

Remus was fully prepared to let the blonde cut in, knowing that denying him would be fishy, but Sirius protested, pushing the blonde against his chest with a glare.

"Siri," Remus hissed, giving him a stern look—Sirius stared back defiantly, daring him to tell him '_no_'—and smiled apologetically at the blonde as he pulled his best friend away from the group, "we need to talk."

And just like that, the spell was broken. Sirius was harshly reminded of the fact that Remus did not belong to him, here, in this place. Here, he belonged to everyone and no one, all at once. Here he _was not_ his, _could never be_ his. The knowledge made him want to hit something, really hard—but knowing how angry his friend was, he managed to resist the urge—instead he let Remus drag him into the hallway, passing the woman by the front desk.

"Ruby, who is—" before she could finish her sentence, making notes in her book, he pushed passed the row of people waiting to be seated.

"A favour," he snapped, ignoring her and taking Sirius up the stairs.

"What is that?" Sirius asked, taking in the view as they entered the hallway leading to Remus' room—the brunette's skirt swayed with every step he took, revealing small portions of his lace panties—trying to forget the fact that his friend was obviously upset with him.

"It're guys my aunt makes me do for free," Remus answered curtly, giving a polite smile when they passed two other boys in skirts.

"Ah," he nodded in understanding, briefly glancing around the hallway—they had just passed an archway, and every now and then they passed a door with a name on it, golden handles and decorated frames, "so—"

"Shush," Remus glared and pushed the door to his own room open, "get in."

Sirius did as he was told—Remus' room still looked the same, clothes scattered around, high heels everywhere—and heard his friend lock the door behind him. Remus stayed calm for a minute, his glance directed on his best friend as said boy sat down on the bed, trying to act innocent, as if he hadn't just been a possessive bastard in front of Remus' clientele.

"Sirius, that was..." Remus inhaled sharply, crossing his arms in front of his chest—the longer he took to speak, the less angry he seemed to get, his eyes already softening up, "do you know how much trouble you could get me in?"

"I didn't want to let go," Sirius shrugged as if it was nothing, a mere triviality.

"I..." the words had a soothing effect on the fuming brunette—saying so many things, all he had ever wanted from Sirius said with those simple words—Remus approached him with only a small frown left, his anger disappeared like snow in the sun, "I... I didn't want you to."

It was the smallest whisper, but it made something stir inside Sirius that made the raven realise that butterflies were definitely overrated, because this, this was so much better. He almost groaned out loud, but settled on taking Remus' hand, pulling the slim frame between his legs, into his lap.

"I'm sorry Remy," he whispered, smiling when Remus leaned into him on instinct, amber eyes staring up at him, "I didn't mean to cause you trouble—I wanted you, safe in my arms."

"I know that Sirius," Remus sounded so compassionate, Sirius knew than that he had won him, all over again, "but I can't risk my aunt noticing—she would sent you away, or have someone hurt you. I don't want that. I need you, so you can continue keeping me safe."

"I promise you, I will," he kissed the top of the brown mop of hair, luring Remus back into his heart with sweet touches and sugar-coated words.

When Sirius had properly apologised to his friend, and they had made up, hugging close to each other in that way that made Sirius' heart flutter, Remus was forced to leave again, this time, leaving Sirius in his room. He made the raven promise to wait for him, and although Sirius watched his Moony leave with a faint aching in his heart, he knew he would have to be patient before he could make the boy his, and his alone.

**AN: alright, I know I owe you guys an explanation as to why this took me so damn long to update. My HD crashed and I just hadn't the guts to rewrite this all over again – I'd finished chapter seven, eight AND nine – because I liked the original a lot. I am very sorry, but I will continue this story – I've fallen in love all over again, and though Seven was short and a bitch to write, Eight made me fall hard and fast, and I dare say it came out better than the original eight. I still love the concept of this story, I am in no way giving up on it, and chapter nine is already well on its way **

**BEWARE! : since my HD is dead, I've been trying hard to rewrite everything I'd written so far : if you want me to work at this story, review to let me know, because I'm focussing on the stories that are most popular so to speak.**

**Also, a WARNING: the next chapter is M-rated. This is a warning ahead!**


	8. Pleasure will Become You

C**hapter eight:** The House of Jewels where Pleasure will Become You

**AN: Thank you Innocent N, even though you are not as innocent as you seem. This is short and (WARNING!) deliciously M-rated. You have been warned.**

**Okay, so, I got a review asking if I was still going to continue with this, and then I figured that even though the next chappie is a bitch, I really should update. When I checked which chapter to update, I found out that eight was next, while I had been under the impression it was nine XP so, chapter ten is being a bitch, but I already finished nine, so WHOOHOO !**

Sirius woke up when he felt a shift of limbs and the side of the bed tip down—apparently he'd fallen asleep somewhere during the night, though he could have sworn he had vowed not to. He noticed immediately that someone had tucked him in, and a warm body was resting next to him. The drapes had been shut tight, though the bright glossy sun seeped in through a fine slit of window that had remained uncovered. The sheets had been by the foot of the bed when Sirius had last been awake, but the other body had pulled them up slightly, cuddling his front into it, as he remained half uncovered.

When Sirius turned, he was immediately met with the slumbering face of his friend—blankets caught around his knees. His criss-crossed scarred body was turned into the mattress, his thighs showing under the soft fabric of his garters. The briefs stuck to his bum, his skin damp with sweat, and his back was bare—when Sirius focussed he saw a tell-tale trail of clothes leading to the bed, only Remus' underwear and stockings still in place.

His look trailed up his best friend's body unabashedly, the sight of the revealed thighs and the firm bum making him want to have the boy right there—his sun-tanned skin accentuated with the pale stockings and his back curved beautifully into his full arse. His skin was tainted though, and when he saw the dried up semen, obscenely sticking to his friend's back, right between the dimples in his ass, he was harshly reminded of the fact that now, Remus was still _Ruby_, and Ruby was everyone's favourite fucktoy, everyone's number one boy, everyone's but _his_.

He returned his look to the brunette's face, hoping to see that calm serenity that usually took Remus when he slept, but instead he found Remus' eyes wide open, staring up at him—it surprised Sirius, and he was startled by the intensity of that look, as it seemed to set his whole body ablaze.

"You just got back sweetie?" he laced his voice with the utmost care, trying to hide the gruff tone it took, and was pleased when Remus' eyelids fluttered at the sound.

Sirius turned onto his side—he had taken off his trousers and jacket earlier, leaving him to sleep in his white dress-shirt—flattening his hand against Remus' shoulder blade. He knew then Remus couldn't have been back very long, because even though the room was a tiny bit chilly, Remus' skin was damp and hot—and thinking about what had caused that, _wildmadlydelicious_, made hatred bubble up in Sirius' stomach so he tried to forget, but it was hard because everyone was touching what was rightfully _his_.

"Mhm," Remus made a small noise in the back of his throat, arching into Sirius' broad chest, "'m too lazy to redress."

"I should get you cleaned up Moony," he petted the soft skin between his scapula, enjoying the purr the boy made in return, "I'll draw you a bath love."

"Please don't feel like you have to go through that trouble for me," he murmured softly against Sirius' neck, cuddling closer, "I don't want to be a burden."

"You couldn't possibly be a burden Moony," Sirius kissed the side of his neck, slowly detaching himself from the lither frame.

He chuckled when Remus groaned in disapproval, though the boy was too tired to protest loudly. His whole body sunk into the mattress, trying to find ease and tension-relief. Sirius had to tear his look away before he did something incredibly stupid,_ so beautiful, I just want to have you,_ the sight of his best friend, sprawled out like that, stockings sticky against his skin, was too much to handle.

Sirius waited patiently for the bath to fill with lukewarm water, absentmindedly gliding his hand against the white marble. When it had filled completely, he stood again, going back to the bed.

Remus was completely relaxed when Sirius sat him up straight, helping him undo the garters at the side. The brunette smiled drowsily—a petite smile in the corner of his lips that was just utterly tempting—his eyes glossy chestnut. Lifting his hips to adjust his underwear, Sirius aided him in sliding the fabric to the floor. He leaned heavily against Sirius when they returned once more to the bathtub, barely stifling a yawn, and try as he may, all Sirius could think about was how _naked_ Remus was beside him, how utterly _bare_ and _trusting_.

Remus delicately outstretched a leg, letting his tiptoes run through the water to check the temperature—the sight drove goosebumps up Sirius' skin, and he had to recite all the rules of friendship in his head not to ravage the boy on the spot—before sighing in approval and sitting down. The water swished around his tired frame, and he let out a slight moan at the calming effect it had on his sore muscles.

Sirius rolled back his sleeves and stretched one arm over the tub, grasping the other side with his hand so when Remus leaned back, he was supporting against Sirius' arm instead of against the tub. He figured it would be easier to clean his beautiful Moony that way, taking a thick sponge so he could set to work.

He began with the brunette's back, after lathering some soap on the ribbed fabric, giving it a quick scrub with the sponge. Then he set it by the side of the tub and used his free hand instead, massaging Remus' neck with care, and then his shoulders and his stiff sides. When his hand travelled downwards further, he made sure to mark the hitch in Remus' breath, his fingers kneading the firm buttocks in order to get them cleaned. Hazel eyes had drooped shut moments ago, and Sirius watched the boy's face intently for any hint of displeasure—when all he got was a shuddering breath, he was sure he had won his friend for him, and him alone, all over again.

Drawing his hand up and out of the water, he rubbed the main sweat off Remus' smooth skin—unable to resist the urge to trace one of the white scars marring it—winding down the abs in small, steady circles. Remus' hips twitched unintentionally and impatiently when Sirius stopped his caresses, leaning closer to the brunette's wet figure so he could almost see his heartbeat. He licked his lips and hesitated a brief second. Then, without further pause, he wrapped his thin fingers around the heat between Remus' legs, and waited.

The amber eyes flew open on instinct, and a groan fell from his rosy lips, his breath seemingly caught in his throat. One of Remus' hands clawed at Sirius', setting firmly around his wrist, though he did not try to pry Sirius off. Instead, he locked eyes with his best friend—pure fire, lust and passion swirling into dark brown and specks of gold—and moaned: "Sirius, _please_," even though he himself was unsure of what he was pleading for.

Sirius pushed his nose against Remus' neck in a canine gesture of affection, keeping his hand perfectly still. When he felt Remus turn, only to bury his face in the crook of Sirius' broad shoulder, he inwardly sighed, relieved. Remus inhaled deeply, drowning in the scent of his best friend, completely and utterly at ease. Sirius nipped at his neck lovingly, and began moving his hand in deliberate thrusts, up and down and up again.

He synced the speed of his pulls to the feel of Remus' breath against his neck—the boy had been panting before he even began, and it was absolutely beautiful—drawing out his strokes when the breathing became particularly erratic. Remus' nails were still clawing into him, but he barely even felt it, with all those _prettybeautifulgorgeous_ mewls pressing into his shoulder. Every flick of his wrist gave a different pitch of sound, and he loved finding out what made Remus' breathing hitch, what made him moan just _so_.

Most of all, Sirius loved knowing he would be the first to make Remus come undone.

"Remus, darlin'," Sirius nuzzled him below his ear, slowing his pace again, "look at me."

Obliging, Remus turned his head to look up at him—his cheeks a dark crimson as if he was embarrassed, completely flustered with the noises he was making—their eyes meeting in a burning blaze. His lips were parted, dark pink and slick with his own saliva, and he continuously licked them, the heat taking over his body causing them to dry again immediately. His eyes were hazy and clouded, _damn sexy_, and even though Remus was right there, naked and hard, somehow he still managed to look innocent and so like himself. That's all Sirius needed, the knowledge that this was _Remus_ and not Ruby; everyone's favourite fantasy, everyone's number one boy to fuck. This was _his_ Remus and he was not letting go—he sped up once more, jerking in earnest, tightening his fingers.

Remus came crying out Sirius' name, his face contorted in a look of pure, unadulterated perfection, biting his lip so hard it bled—Sirius could see the light explode behind his eyes, and his body was trembling so bad the water swirled around and over the edges of the bath. His hand tightened around Sirius' wrist, sharp enough to leave a bruise, and Sirius could feel him, gasping against his neck, sweaty forehead slumping against his shoulder. Quite frankly, it was the single most erotic thing Sirius had ever witnessed.

Careful not to alarm him in the aftermath of his climax, he drew his hand down the scarred legs, to his knees. Remus' death grip finally loosened, and instead the boy grasped at Sirius' dress shirt.

With some effort, he managed to heave the brunette out of the soiled water, holding him close to his chest, bridal style. He could feel the water of Remus' wet body seeping into his shirt, allowing him to simply melt into his friend, their completely naked bodies separated by just a single layer of cloth.

Remus sobbed softly into his neck, and for the most terrifying minute of his life, Sirius was afraid he had overdone it, had crossed that invisible line he had always wanted to cross, and was now left, unreciprocated.

But then the shivering boy locked an arm around his neck, fingers weaving through his long hair, as he quietly wept on. Sirius gently rocked the naked body in his arms, making his way through the room, letting the air dry Remus while they walked. He was a bit unnerved when Remus refused to remove his head from his shoulder, pressing his face against his chest—he liked seeing the light reflect in Remus' eyes, always, even when he cried and was thoroughly displeased at being denied such a simple request. For the moment though, he willed himself not to be so selfish, and instead tried soothing his Moony.

Eventually, when he found Remus was amply dried—his petite sobs dying out, now replaced with an occasional hiccup—he walked them back to the bed. Sirius settled the tan form into the soft blankets, chuckling at the surprised sound Remus made—really, the boy was too adorable.

Remus didn't bother covering up his own naked flesh, instead pulling at Sirius' wet shirt. His sleeves were still soaked, and the wet, white fabric stuck to his hips.

"Take it off," Remus ordered softly, his own body flushing at the command.

Sirius grinned crookedly, obeying without a second's thought. Really, how could he resist? Remus was right there, inch by inch of beautiful everything, bare and exposed, with no place to run, nowhere to hide. And though Sirius wanted to brush off the command as something purely sexual, he knew it wasn't. The way Remus' eyes lingered with his own as he helped undo the shirt, starting with the last button, told Sirius that. It was about how Remus felt trapped there—inside this body that had been befouled, pure before but never untouched—in the place where he was giving himself to everyone, _anyone_, shredding himself into little pieces so each could have his share. And there, where no saviour could ever be dreamed of, where hopes were crushed, there, he no longer wanted to be alone. He did _not_ want to be the only one left bare and exposed any more. He wanted Sirius to be there with him—have all of him or have nothing, because he no longer wanted to be shared and divided. He wanted to be Sirius', all of him, belonging with only _him_.

Of course this all went unmentioned—Sirius prided himself on his ability to read his friends' looks, but that did not mean he would just use this knowledge. Manipulative and a righteous bastard, that was Sirius Orion Black, but not in a million years would he wish to hurt Remus by abusing the knowledge for his own simple pleasures.

He had known Remus was a werewolf long before the boy had told him, but he knew just as well that being able to tell someone was part of the healing process. Ruining that by telling him he knew, could read it in his eyes, simply would _not_ do.

So instead he folded his shirt over a chair to dry, and crawled onto the bed in his briefs. Remus immediately latched onto him, Sirius wounding his arm around his friend's shoulder. He pulled the blankets over the shivering frame, seeing how it had cooled down a bit—Remus' legs slid against his own, and he pulled Remus' hip closer with his free hand, draping his body over his own. He felt his skin flush at the contact, and though he had had many a girls flatter against him like that before, none came close to feeling as divine as Remus did. His skin was blissfully smooth, though not all of it so supple. There were little nicks, small imperfections and though many of them had faded over the years, he could still feel them when his hand brushed past them.

Remus rested his head against Sirius' chest tiredly, arms encircling the broader body so he could ensure himself Sirius wasn't going anywhere. Sirius stroked though his hair in long, fluent movements, luring him into relaxation.

"I hope that wasn't too intense back there?" Sirius murmured into the chestnut hair, stroking a brackish lock behind the boy's ear.

"No, it's just..." Remus smiled up at Sirius, rather drowsily, "you're the first to make me..." he blushed an endearing shade of pink, his eyes alluringly lit, golden swirling in the amber, "_come._"

"I'm glad it was mine than," he kissed Remus' temple, watching him shift to make himself more comfortable.

"What was Siri?" Remus asked curiously.

"The right touch," their eyes locked, and when Remus leaned up to kiss his cheek, the brunette's smile was as radiant as ever.

And after all, that's what Sirius did it for.

**AN: I know it was short, but was it delicious or what? This story is a total whore, I can tell you that, and it pays off to review. My pen's prostitute people, give the pimp some love**


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